


In the Beginning

by MJ (mjr91)



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Blackslash, First known Blacklist slash, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-18
Updated: 2013-10-18
Packaged: 2017-12-29 19:08:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1008985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mjr91/pseuds/MJ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Why is Raymond "Red" Reddington so interested in Elizabeth Keen?  "Because of her father" is an answer.  But it's only one of many answers.  "Because of Tom Keen" may be another one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> This may prove hopelessly non-canonical by the end of the first season. But as a dedicated slasher, this seemed a perfectly plausible possibility while we're currently only a few episodes in.

It had been the most casual of affairs.

They'd had no reason to bother, but no reason not to go ahead anyway. He was still reasonably attractive, all things considered, or at least others seemed to find him so, though he was unconvinced. His partner? Extremely attractive if you liked the type, and he did.

Neither came in with any strings attached; neither had wanted any strings attached now. And neither was in a relationship, neither married – oh, well, if you wanted to be technical about it, he'd never gotten a divorce, but after twenty years, it didn't really count, and there was no way she'd want him back anyhow if he ever showed up on her doorstep, which was one of the most remote possibilities imaginable. No, it wasn't even imaginable.

Both of them traveled heavily in their jobs; although he wasn't that highly sexed, or at least he wasn't any more, because at a certain age other things simply assumed more importance, he wasn't faithful, and he had no reason to believe that his partner was. It simply didn't matter. They were an interesting and amusing convenience to each other – intelligent conversation, dinner companionship, and an enjoyable interlude afterwards leading to orgasms, about which neither had any reason to complain, were the mainstays of whatever relationship they had, and it was quite enough.

It was inevitable that it wouldn't last – one didn't even bother to think the point through, because it was a given. Their lines of work, their travel, their levels of exposure to danger, argued against serious relationships; one didn't even contemplate them. If you wanted such a thing, you either required deep cover or leaving the business. His covers weren't any safer than his actual identity, if you got down to it, and as for his business… well, business was good, he had other companions if he sought them, and sex, when needed or desired, had always been available, either on offer or for easy sale. The latter, to be honest, was frequently preferable. Skilled, attractive partners who asked no questions and left afterwards were invaluable, and so were the few highly paid escorts whose numbers he kept, who were happy to see him (and his generous payments and gifts) when he visited their cities, and who cheerfully dressed to the nines to accompany him to dinners, parties, and business deals about which they didn't care and didn't ask questions. His partner probably was no more faithful than he, and "faithful" wasn't even the right word, as they had no commitment and neither desired it.

Still, it was a minor disappointment when his friend came by less and less, because of a romantic entanglement that had clearly developed. He had enjoyed the affair, and would be sorry to see it end. Still, there would be no hard feelings, and if their paths crossed for any reason, conversation, dinner, and more than likely sex afterwards would be quite happily entertained.

It seemed inevitable that a day would arrive when it would be over, and that day indeed came.

"I'm getting married."

"Ah, are you? Congratulations. I hope you'll be happy, and I hope you'll be leaving the business. It's not particularly amenable to family life, as I have my own reason to know."

"I have some options. My employers can mainstream me. Frankly, I'm looking forward to it. I've been chafing a bit. That last one was too close a call, and I'd like to live a little longer."

"I should prefer to see you alive as well, even if I don't see you. Does your intended have a name? I assume it's the… person… you seem to have been seeing regularly that you've preferred I know nothing about."

"It's Lizzie – uh, Elizabeth. She's FBI – a profiler, though, a desk job. Brand new at it. No experience with my kind of work, and she doesn't need to know it, obviously. Marrying law enforcement is going to be an issue, I know, but at least she won't be investigating me."

He winced. Marrying an FBI agent? That was insanity, but love did that sort of thing. He'd seen cases of such insanity in the past – good lord, he'd been there himself once. That, fortunately, was over.

Then he rose, embracing his friend and kissing his cheek. He'd have done the same even if they hadn't shared a bed frequently; spending most of the past years in Europe had rubbed off. "Good luck, Tom. I'm here if you need me."

"Thanks, Red."

He waited for Tom Keen to leave the hotel suite, then peeked into the next room. "Luli? I need a piece of research, and you have the contacts. A new FBI agent. Her name's Elizabeth – I'm not sure what the last name is, but she's a new hire, starting as a profiler. I want to know everything about her. Everything. I want to know where her great-grandmother was born. I want to know if she ran with scissors in second grade. Buy anyone you have to, but find out who she is and get me a file on her."

"I'll get started on it, Raymond." The woman could purr. If cats mated with humans, that was her voice. It was also her movement, and her deviousness. He preferred being her friend to the alternative, which was why she worked for him.

He rubbed his hands together, thinking. Elizabeth. Soon to be Elizabeth Keen. Anyone that could snare Tom Keen had to be an interesting creature indeed. He was going to find out.


End file.
